


Her Heartbeat

by a_cowboy_like_me



Category: Crier's War Series - Nina Varela
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_cowboy_like_me/pseuds/a_cowboy_like_me
Summary: Between the last chapter of Iron Heart and its epilogue as Ayla's leg heals.
Relationships: Crier/Ayla
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Her Heartbeat

“Ayla?” Crier breathed the name. Storme and Benjy hovered next to her, next to the bed where Ayla, her shining beacon of light, lay. Her right leg was heavily bandaged at the knee and below the bandage, where her lower leg should have been, was a Made thing more horrible than any Crier had seen before. Bits of what looked almost like scrap metal took up the space that used to be Ayla’s lovely, strong leg. And Ayla looked so fragile, lying there with her dark curls a mess on the pillow. One curl had made its way onto her face, and Crier reached her hand out to brush it away, barely allowing her skin to touch the impossible softness of Ayla’s.

At exactly that moment, Ayla’s eyes fluttered open. 

“It’s done, Ayla,” Benjy said, taking her hand in his and squeezing.

“Just Crier?” she said groggily, her eyes settling on Crier. “You did it.”

“You did it,” Crier said, leaning down and letting her lips touch the tender skin of Ayla’s temple before she could hold herself back from doing so. Ayla’s mouth just barely turned up into a smile before her eyes closed and Crier heard her heartbeat slow again with sleep.

Crier walked the hallway, up and down, up and down. Moonlight filtered in through a window in the corridor. Every time she passed through it, the still glowing runes on her skin lit up even more. With Yora’s heart, Crier now needed to sleep even less than she had before, so over the past few nights she had taken to pacing the halls near Ayla’s room, listening to the sound of her heart beating. During the day there was so much to be done, conversations to be had, plans to be made. But, when night fell, Crier could settle her energy on the person who made her feel things that she hadn’t thought herself, thought any Automa, capable of feeling.

Suddenly, just as Crier passed directly by Ayla’s door, the heartbeat quickened, coming more rapidly than it had been for the rest of the night, more rapidly than it should have been. Crier’s heart sped up with it and she rushed into the room where Ayla slept, pushing the door open, her eyes falling on Ayla’s face, contorted in pain even as she slept. Midwife Jezen said that the pain would subside soon as Ayla healed and then they would be able to get to work on refining the Made leg, but now Crier’s stomach twisted as she witnessed Ayla hurting.

Before Crier could do anything, Ayla’s eyes sprung open.

“Ayla?” Crier stood next to her.

“Mm,” she responded, voice raspy. “Hurts.”

“What can I do?” Crier asked, letting her thumb gently brush the sweaty skin of Ayla’s forehead. 

Ayla closed her eyes again and reached a hand next to her, patting the blanket, flinching as she did so. Crier moved to the other side of the bed and settled herself down, as slowly and gently as possible so as not to jostle Ayla.

“Tell me a story, Just Crier,” Ayla said, eyes still closed, confident even in her state of sleepiness and obvious discomfort. 

“Once,” Crier started quietly. “There was a girl who fell in love with the moon.” As she wove the story that she had read so many times in her books, Crier allowed her hand to wander towards Ayla, her fingers absentmindedly stroking Ayla’s hair. She continued the story until long after she heard Ayla’s heartbeat slow again with gentle sleep. 

Ayla put a hand on Crier’s offered arm, fingers sun warm against Crier’s bare skin. 

They had a slight break in the day’s endless meetings and planning sessions, and both had wanted to escape outside for just a few moments, to enjoy the sun on their faces and the scent of the salt air. They had meandered slowly through the gardens, through the salt lavender and the other beautiful plants, Crier pushing the rolling chair that Ayla sat in, despite Ayla’s protestations that she could maneuver it perfectly fine by herself.

But Crier wanted to do everything for the person that she— She almost couldn’t bring herself to think the word, think of the thing that she had never before experienced, the thing she had never thought that she would experience.

The person that she loved. 

They had stopped when they reached the cliffs, looking at the sea, its tide out and its waves gentle. Today, Crier’s thoughts matched the calm of the water. 

Ayla gripped Crier’s arm and slowly raised herself from the chair. She winced slightly as she put some of her weight on her right leg, the join where her flesh met the Made limb still tender. Crier, tuned into every bit of Ayla, heard her heartbeat speed up just a bit as she adjusted to the pain, but soon it slowed and her fingers relaxed on Crier’s arm.

“Are you alright?” Crier turned her face to Ayla’s.

“I’m good,” Ayla said. “I’m just ready to figure out this leg. Think of all the ways this could help people.”

Crier felt her face split into a grin at Ayla’s adorable excitement, the way she had managed to turn something so horrible into something positive. Ayla continued to talk about how she and Midwife Jezen could use the work on her leg for other innovations, taking a small step as she did so. 

“Hey, look, Just Crier,” she said. 

In response, Crier raised her arm so that Ayla’s hand neared her face and leaned down, shyly planting a gentle kiss on the fingers. She could hear the normal beating of Ayla’s heart, the soft whooshing of the wind, the waves down below, and, in the distance, the sounds of people—human or Automae, she was unsure—content. 

And she felt happy.


End file.
